


Noirge

by cheshirejin



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Detective Noir, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 07:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshirejin/pseuds/cheshirejin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective Norge was an average private eye, leading an average life, until the day <b><i>He</i></b> walked into his door</p><p>crossposted from, and written for. the Nordic Julfest community on Livejournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Noirge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coeurgryffondor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coeurgryffondor/gifts).



> **Cast List** : because I played with their names some.  
> Norway - Detective Norge  
> Sweden - Berwald (Sweetcheeks)  
> Finland - Tino  
> Denmark - The Dane  
> Prussia - Gil  
> Hungary - Elzie  
> Germany - Ludwig  
> Latvia - Ravis  
> Russia - The Russian  
> North and South Italy – The Vargas brothers  
>   
> 

It was a typical afternoon, I sat with my feet up on my desk with nothing better to do than knock back a few sips of vodka and wait for the paperwork fairy to finish filling out the forms and bills under my feet for me.  There was a knock at the door. “It’s open,” I said loudly, twisting the lid back onto the bottle and stashing it in the drawer of the desk. The door opened and in walked a dream; a tall, muscular, blond haired, blue eyed dream. He wore blue, a long coat over a suit both in deep, dark blue.

“Mr. Norge?”  It was a question. His voice was deep and rough, it gave me shivers.

“Yes,” I answered.

“I was told you were the man to see about some detective work,” he said, reaching up to adjust the pair of wire framed glasses he wore, nervously. “The Dane said to say he sent me.”

The Dane wouldn’t send anyone to me unless there was trouble. My ex old flame didn’t owe me any favors and wasn’t known for his generous spirit. Good thing for this handsome fellow I didn’t mind trouble.

“So, what’s this all about, Sweetcheeks?” I asked. It earned me a fierce glare that chilled me to the bone. Yes, this was going to be trouble, but it wasn’t going to be boring.

“This is about a missing person, and I can pay your standard fee,” he said, subtly edging away from me.

“And this missing person, they are important how?” I asked. It was a sensible question.

He ran a hand through his hair, and took a deep breath, “He is my fiancé,” he said, his face taking on a neutral expression as he waited for my reaction to this.

“So, are you sure he wants to be found?” I know it was an ice cold question but it had to be asked. Besides, I was a little disappointed to hear he was already involved with someone. It cut my chances of getting him into bed in half.

A look of pure anguish crossed his features, but only briefly, before his expression became neutral once more. “No,” he all but whispered, “but I have to find out.”

Now I was interested. “All right, before I agree to take the case, I need to know two things. First, tell me anything you know about the situation. Where things stand between the two of you and anything you can think of that will help me track down this missing fiancée of yours.”

“I know where he is, I just can’t go near there.”

Well this was getting more and more strange by the moment. I had a bad feeling about it, but why else would the Dane have sent him to me? The man delighted in messing with my day. “Would you care to elaborate on that a little, Sweetcheeks?” That earned me another glare, but that was all.

“I know that he is living at The Russian’s place. Someone I know saw him there. Things between us, they were on the rocks, but if he didn’t go of his own free will, he needs help.”

The Russian, that man was dangerous. He was expanding his territory and his men were all over these days. That made things complicated, and hazardous. I really should have told him no, but then I looked into those beautiful baby blues. “I’ll take the case,” I said. “The only thing left to ask is what do I call you?” He really didn’t seem to like the name “Sweetcheeks”, but I thought it fit him nicely.

His eyes widened a fraction. “Name’s Berwald,” he said, holding his hand out to me. “Thank you for taking the case.”

I shook his hand, noticing how small mine looked in comparison and wondered if he was large like that all over. Putting on my friendliest smile, which probably looked more like a smirk, I gestured him toward my desk. “Berwald, that’s quite a name. Take a load off and we’ll talk.”

He nodded and we both seated our selves across the desk from each other. Over the course of the next hour or so, I found out that Sweetcheeks and his betrothed had been together for years, but no wedding date had been set because every time he brought it up his fiancée found something important he needed to do. He had long suspected he was using him for his money, but was willing to overlook it because he liked the guy. Then one day he went over to his fiancée’s house to find that he was missing, along with a good portion, but not all of his belongings. He had set out immediately to find him.

He had a source, someone who was close to The Russian. This source had seen his fiancée at The Russian’s place. Now he just wanted to know if he was there by choice or because of some debt he owed or some other unsavory business. If The Russian was keeping him prisoner as revenge for their past dealings, he wanted to help in any way he could, but if he had left him for the notorious man, well then there wasn’t much else to say about it.

 The problem was, he was not allowed within a city mile of anywhere The Russian might be due to some problems they had between them a while back. Sweetcheeks had taken a loan from him and when he and his boys had showed up to collect the money, plus an exorbitant amount of interest, The Russian had found himself at the wrong end of a very angry, very large, scary strong Norseman. The cops showed up, before he could kill him all the way, and the restraining order was still in effect. 

From what I could tell, all I really needed to do for this case was to arrange to meet with this fiancée and find out if he was being coerced into staying with The Russian or not, easy peasy. I was about to ask how best to go about this when the door to my office opened and in walked my secretary and half brother, Icey. His mother must have known what a special snowflake he would turn out to be when she named him. He stopped short, just inside the door, when he saw I had company.

“You shouldn’t bring guys here to the office, it’s unprofessional,” he huffed.

“This is our newest client, Berwald. Berwald, this is Icey, he does the grunt work around the office for me.”

“A client? In that case I am happy to meet your Berwald,” Icey said, nodding vaguely in Sweetcheeks’ direction, before grabbing the stack of paperwork off the edge of my desk and starting to sort through it. “He looks like your type. It’s about time we got a paying customer in here. It isn’t working, waiting for your magical bill fairy to cover the expenses and file the paperwork.” That last was directed toward me, of course, as he walked from my office to his adjoining one and shut the door behind him. What did I tell you? Special.

“Don’t mind him,” I told Sweetcheeks, “I think I have an idea, let me make a few calls and I can probably wrap things up for you in a few days.”

I took two of my business cards from the desk and offered them to him. “If you need anything, call me, and write your number on the back of one of those and leave it with me so I can do the same.” Okay, so it wasn’t the smoothest way to get a guy’s phone number, but it did bear the result I wanted once he scribbled those digits on the paper and dropped it onto my desk. I stood and walked him to the door, shaking his hand once more and looking deep into his eyes, trying to memorize my new favorite shade of blue, before he left. It was a shame he had to leave, but I sure liked watching him go.

I got on the horn with my best contact for anything concerning The Russian; an albino named Gilbert. It didn’t take long, before I had a meeting set up between myself and the wayward fiancée, turns out his name was Tino.

Gil set up a meeting in one of the local restaurants, a swanky little place called “Eduard’s.” I sat across from just over five feet of pure trouble. Oh he looked innocent as a child, but I knew the type. I was related to Icey after all. It took me all of ten minutes to decide they were birds of a feather, like penguins, or puffins, social loving, awkward, cute birds of a feather.

Tino looked at me with his big, bright, violet eyes and asked, “So, how is Berwald?” between bites of some creamed fish dish I couldn’t pronounce.

“Confused, worried mostly, I think,” I answered honestly, “From what he has said, his fiancée suddenly vanished and is rumored to have taken up with The Russian without a word or explanation.”

He coughed on his dinner a little. “We weren’t engaged, he never asked, and I never accepted. He just started calling me that one day for no reason. Well, he is kind of big and a little frightening, so I never corrected him. Don’t get me wrong, Berwald is a good guy and a decent friend, but I never intended to settle down and play house with him. It all got to be too much, he was pressuring me to set a wedding date and I had to get out. The Russian offered to let me stay at his place to get away from things for a while and I thought it was best.”

He said he was fine, and to tell Berwald not to worry about him. I asked him if he needed anything, like the possessions he left behind, or an armed rescue and he told me I was being silly. He fluttered around like a caged bird and I could tell cute little Tino wanted this meeting over with, so I called for the check and I assured him I would relay the message for him.

The next morning, I called Sweetcheeks in to the office and told him what Tino had said. He sat quietly and listened as I recanted my tale, at the end I told him that Tino didn’t want him to worry about him. I could tell from the look on his face that he was not going to be able to do that. “So, what do you want to do next?” I asked him.

“I don’t know, what do you think?” he asked, I could tell he was still assessing the info I gave him.

“I think Tino is a lousy liar, and he doesn’t want you involved,” I told him, he had been way too nervous about any mention of The Russian to be comfortable with the situation as it sat. “I already have someone scoping out the situation and I know a few people who would love to sock one to The Russian if it comes to that. With their help we will get him out of there.” I was not sure why I felt that way; I guess I figured that this cute boy wonder was standing between me and Sweetcheeks no matter what, so helping Tino seemed the right thing to do.

Then I found myself wrapped in a big, strong set of arms, my face pressed into his chest and a nose full of his scent; clean soap, cologne, and man, mmmm.

“Thank you,” he said, before releasing me.

I returned the hug with a quick squeeze of my own. “Any time,” I told him.

We planned Operation Rescue Tino over the next few days. I called in some favors and before long we had a small group working on different aspects of the plan. Icey talked his friend Elzie into shopping for supplies and making travel arrangements. Gil and a friend of his named Ravis were our inside men. They could keep an eye on things and report when it was time to set things into motion.

After a while, all we could do was sit and wait for our opportunity. The plan was simple enough. Sooner or later The Russian was going to go on a business excursion. While he was out dirtying his hands on some poor shmo, we would enter his house forcibly and break Tino out of there. Then we would drive to a pre-arranged meeting spot, where Elzie would be waiting with two plane tickets, and then I would watch my Sweetcheeks and the boy wonder walk out of my life for good. Not much of a happy ending, I admit, but I would still get paid my usual fee, and five hundred smackeroos would take some of the sting out of it. In the meantime, I got to sit and play solitaire while Icey looked at me with distain every time another bill came in.

Then, finally something broke and I got a phone call. Turns out The Russian was heading down to give some guy the business in the Polish quarter.  It was time to put the plan into action. I called Sweetcheeks and told him to wait for us at the rendezvous, and then I went to my old jalopy and zoomed for The Russian’s place. Once I got there, I waited around the corner for Gil to show, so that someone would have my back. When he showed up, he had a whole pack of muscle with him; apparently he had relatives and friends of relatives who all had a bone to pick with The Russian. He introduced me to his brother, Ludwig, and two Italian fellows, the Vargas brothers. I got a bad vibe from one of the brothers, he talked like he was connected and I wasn’t sure I wanted that kind of trouble, but beggars can’t be choosy and we needed all the help we could get right then.

As a group, we charged down the block and stormed the front gate of the ritzy estate belonging to The Russian. We barreled through with less resistance than I had anticipated, only two men, who were easily laid out, but Gil assured me the worst was yet to come.

Once inside the place, we found out there were more men wandering around, and some of them were armed. One took a shot at the Italians and Gil’s brother went completely apeshit on him. The other guards in that room dropped their pieces and ran for it. Before long, we had made our way into the north wing of the house, where Tino was supposed to be staying, only to find the little blonde running toward us, shouting some strong language at us for being there.

“Relax, we are here to spring you,” I told him, to which he replied that he didn’t need  to be sprung and he could leave whenever he wanted. Like I said, he was a lousy liar. I told him that we had travel arrangements that could get him away from The Russian for good and his eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas.

“You would really do that for me?” He seemed shocked.

“No, but I would do it for him,” I answered, knowing he would know exactly who I was talking about.

He nodded and started moving toward me, when a shot rang across the study we had ended up standing in for our little conversation. I looked behind me to see The Russian, standing there with a blood covered lead pipe in his hands, one of his lackeys held a still smoking gun aimed at us.

“I don’t think you will be going anywhere,” The Russian said confidently.

“You said I could leave whenever I wanted.” Tino looked like he was going to cry; he turned his back to The Russian and leaned against a heavy rattan bar cart for support.

“Ah, I lied.” This was a not too surprising response.

Tino nodded as if to himself and then looked over his shoulder at me. “We will be leaving now,” he informed me, quietly. Turning suddenly, he threw a bottle onto the floor between us and The Russian. It exploded into flames and I realized he had stuffed a bar rag into the neck of a bottle of vodka and somehow lit it on fire, before tossing it.  

The flames formed an effective barrier between us and them. When a nearby armchair caught and went up in flames like fireworks, a thick choking smoke forced everyone from the room. It was easy to make our escape in the confusion.

The neon sign in front of the motel said “No Vacancy,” but when we knocked on the door to room number 69, it opened to reveal a petite brown haired girl with bright green eyes. “Elzie, I presume,” I said as we entered the room, shutting the door behind us.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” she said, her tone was friendly and her eyes held a mischievous glint. I barely noticed since my attention was riveted on a certain tall blond on the other side of the room. He crossed it with two big strides and wrapped Tino in a hug, and I wanted to pout. They started talking, catching up and I was ready to leave when Gil blocked my way.

“Hang around, we have a problem. The Russian saw us tonight, I don’t think he knows you from Adam, but he knows my face,” he said “This is going to be goodbye most likely. I don’t mind, as long as Tino gets out of here safely. I can go lay low at my brother’s place, until I find someplace of my own.”

“Won’t The Russian just go after you and your brother too?” The plan was never supposed to account for them in the first place.

“Nah, little brother spends too much time rubbing elbows, among other things, with the Vargas brothers. That is a kind of trouble even The Russian wouldn’t mess in,” he told me with a chuckle.

I nodded, there wasn’t much to say, but then an arm reached over my shoulder, offering a slip of paper to Gil.

“Here you take it; he told me how things are between you.” It was the plane ticket Elzie had gotten for Sweetcheeks. He handed it to Gil and stepped aside to let Tino move past him to jump into Gil’s arms.

The two quickly said their goodbyes and bustled off to the airport, before The Russian could track them down, or Sweetcheeks could change his mind. Soon after they left, Elzie, Ludwig, and the Vargas brothers bid their leave and headed back to their respective places.

“Well Swee- er Berwald, what are you going to do now?” I asked, completely aware we were alone in a motel room.

“I s’pose I still need to pay your usual fee,” he said with a shrug.

“Yeah, that’s five hundred, right?”

“Nuh uh,” he said, shaking his head and smirking down at me. “The Dane said I got the special promotional rate, two fifty and a night out, with dinner and dancing at Eduard’s.”

Damn it, my ex knew me too well. I smiled up at him as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and we left the run down motel together. Icey was going to kill me, but I could care less. It looked like this was the start of a beautiful relationship.

                                                                     

                                   

  
  



End file.
